


Counting Stars

by LeggoxMyxGreggo



Category: Fury(2014)
Genre: Gen, Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-18
Updated: 2014-12-18
Packaged: 2018-03-02 01:20:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,865
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2794562
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LeggoxMyxGreggo/pseuds/LeggoxMyxGreggo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Not all wounds are something to worry about but that doesn't Boyd from worrying.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Counting Stars

**Author's Note:**

  * For [CiderSky](https://archiveofourown.org/users/CiderSky/gifts).



> Writing this was like pulling teeth but here it is. I'm sorry it took so long, hopefully I've gotten my groove back but we'll see.

          The doc said it was just a graze and nothing to be worried about. Just because it was a graze didn't mean that Grady didn't have the world's worst headache from it and the blood was still flowing pretty freely though it felt like the worst had stopped. Laying along the side of the tank to check for repairs was the last place Grady wanted to be with the way his head was throbbing. They had taken a few hits, some Germans with nothing more than a few guns thankfully, but he had been outside on top of the tank, smoking and talking to Don when it happened. No one was fatally injured on their side and he's more than thankful that the bullet had only grazed his head but it still sucked. It sucked in a way that only war could. Grady can only imagine how embarrassing it would have been to die like that, shot through the head on a simple mission, not even a real fire-fight. It didn't stop him from being angry.  
          "The fuck you goin' on about?" Grady snaps, rolling onto his back to look up at Boyd who he only just realized had been talking to him. The other man didn't need to know that though by the look on his face, Grady's pretty sure Boyd already knows.   
          "I was saying that I want to look at your head." Boyd didn't even sound upset by his snapping and it only served to piss him off more.   
          "Why don't you ever get angry 'bout shit? Huh? You're always so passive. It's fuckin' annoying." Grady pushes himself up to stand as he talks, scowling and keeping his head away from Boyd's probing fingers. The man was weird about them getting injured, like he was in some kind of state of constant worry about all of them. "Stop. Doc said 'm fine. I don' need yer motherin'." He slaps Boyd's hand down and steps back from him.   
          "Stop acting like a child Grady and sit still for me to check your head." Boyd never even reacted to his snapping about his calm demeanor and Grady just wanted to shove him away for some kind of reaction. The only warning he gets is the twitch of Boyd's jaw before his arm was being grabbed and the heel of Boyd's boot connected with the back of his knee to take him to the ground. "You're head must be killing you right now." He was talking so calmly, Grady couldn't help thinking over if he had imagined being taken to the floor like he had. It was the only explanation for why he was kneeling for Boyd's gentle but probing touch though.  
          "Ah, okay. That can stop now." Grady tries to jerk his head back as Boyd finds the source of the blood, a nice gash on the side of his head that he only knew the placement of from the doc nearly thirty minutes ago.  
          "Sit on the crate for me, you're too low for me to get you cleaned up and I want to double check that cut, might need stitches." It wasn't often that stitches were brought up by the docs who may not have the time but they were something that Boyd had a preference to as opposed to the weird clotting shit they had that he only used in emergencies. Giving in, Grady groans and stands up, looking to the crate beside Gordo and making his way to it. He drops down and almost immediately regrets it as his head throbs more, making even the worst hangover he's had look like it was an everyday headache. "Do me a favor and don't throw up please." There was a hint of something in Boyd's tone and when Grady looks up the man was almost smiling.  
          "Yer an ass. You know that? Finding someone's pain funny. Doesn't seem very christi-ow fuck." Grady wasn't even finished talking before a wet rag was pressed to the cut with some kind of alcohol on it.  
          "Were you saying something?" Boyd starts to wipe at the dried blood and clean him up and Grady stares at him with an open mouth because he knows that he just did that on purpose. Grady decides that his best course of action with the rag still in Boyd's hand was to just sit quietly and let him do as he pleased. "Someone was watching out for you today, Grady." Boyd's voice is quiet like it tends to be when it's just the two of them, softer and more open. Opening his eyes, Grady sees that Gordo had left and that they were alone by the tank and he sighs. "Maybe it's all that prayin' you've been doin'." The joke falls flat and Grady winces as he receives a stiff look in return. Instead of apologizing, Grady just closes his eyes again.  
          Boyd's fingers brush over his jaw as his hand lowers to grab what Grady assumes is a a bandage or the stitches. The stringy thick feeling of gauze pressing to his head answers the question and Grady raises a hand as he's prompted. "No, just..." Boyd's voice is quiet and he grabs his hand to set it on the edge of the makeshift bandage to hold it up so he could tear thin strips of tape to keep the gauze in place.   
          "I didn' mean it." Grady sighs, looking up at Boyd to give him a tentative a smile. "The whole prayin' thing. Leas' someone 'round here looks out for us."   
          "I'll keep praying then." The promise was nice, actually meant something coming from Boyd. His neighbor said it a lot, 'I'll pray for you', she said it when his brothers got drafted but it didn't mean as much from her as it did coming from Boyd, he knew that Boyd didn't pray for them to get home like Miss Ruffer from next door, no, Boyd only prayed that their number didn't come up or that they would go to heaven if it did. He heard him sometimes, mumbling to himself outside the tank when he and Gordo were trying to drink away the war. It meant more, Grady thinks, because no one's ever prayed for him to go to heaven before. With a grunt, Grady lets his head fall forward to rest on Boyd's chest, listening to his heartbeat through his shirt. "Teach me?"  
          Boyd's hum was quiet, like he didn't know what he meant but Grady could tell by the way that his arms tightened around his shoulders, hiding him in the folds of his jacket that Boyd knew. "Bow your head." Grady nods slowly and shifts to sit up and bow his head, the top of his head resting against Boyd's ribcage. He could feel the way his heart beat against it, like it was in time to the pounding in his own head. There is silence between them for a moment before Boyd whispered quietly. "Dear Lord....." He listened to the change in the way that Boyd prayed, different than he spoke, softer but it was still Boyd's voice filling the space between them with a prayer for safety. He still didn't believe in a big man up there, creating men in his image of perfection to watch them kill each other in his name, but he believed in Boyd and Boyd believed in the big man so that was enough for him to want to sit still in a way that he never did in church back home. "Say 'Amen', Grady."   
          There's a moment where he wants nothing more than to tease Boyd, mock his words but he can't bring himself to do it. "Amen." He clears his throat, acting as though the word didn't come out raspy. He sits back to look up at Boyd, smiling a bit as he realized that Boyd had that look, the one he reserved for when they did something good. He tries to think of something to say and can't help feeling glad as he's saved from actually saying anything by Boyd's lips brushing his bandage before they pressed firmly to his own chapped lips.  
          "Should rest up, your head's gonna be killin' ya at least till tomorrow." Grady doesn't even want to argue, knowing that Boyd was right, he was always right.   
          "Join me?" Just because Boyd was right, didn't mean that he wanted to sleep alone. With a glance around, he checks that those who are on post are moving about and nods slowly, eyes landing on Don a ways away, talking to someone. It seemed as though they were stopped for the night which was good, Grady could use the morning to finish up the tank. The gentle cuff to his shoulder told him what he needed and Grady pushes himself up, stretching before lumbering to the tank and crawling under her belly. The dirt wasn't as packed from the tanks rolling over it and it made for a more pleasant nook than they usually got. Gordo would join them later, possibly Norman as well if Don has his way but like this it was pleasant too. Grady watches as Boyd gets comfortable, using his jacket for a pillow, before laying his head on Boyd's shoulder and draping an arm around his middle.   
          Grady grunts as Boyd kicks his feet, kicking back before moving them away from Boyd. They'll be Gordo's problem. "You're a fucking furnace, Grady. At least move your legs over a bit."   
          "They are back." He grumbles, sighing as Boyd's arm pulls him in closer and lips press against his head.   
          "I said over not back, it's fucking cold out here." Grady grunts as he gets what Boyd meant, grumbling about not hearing him and draping a leg over the trigger to practically sprawl over him. It was nice like this, Boyd's heat keeping his hands warm. With the promise that the others would join them soon, Grady soaks in as much of Boyd's attention as he can, fingers tracing patterns along his side until he fell asleep.   
          Gordo's slurred Spanish curses and Norman's grumbling and rustling was enough to wake him but he could fell Boyd moving beneath him, dealing out swats and moving something carefully so he wasn't jostled. The feeling of a warm body along his back gives away what happened, Norman must have been late to join and Boyd wanted the kid in the middle so he would be warm, it wasn't the first time it had happened and he was too tired, head throbbing like crazy still, to really care enough to do more than to grunt and stretch out enough to over Norman's legs with one of his own.   
          "How's your head, Grady?" Norman's voice was quiet, like he wasn't sure he was awake and Grady grunts again, smacking behind him until he connected with what he assumed was his stomach. "Better if you shut yer damn mouth." There's a sound from behind him before he feels Norman's face press into his back.   
          The last thing Grady hears before he falls asleep again is Norman's voice muffled in his jacket, "'M glad you're okay."

**Author's Note:**

> My tumblr is still Blastababy if you want to get in contact with me and I also have a twitter for updates, LeggoxMyxGreggo. Check it out for story updates.


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